Fire
by Ponderess
Summary: She wants to burn for him. It's the only thing that would make sense to her. Because if she can't have him and if she can't have life there is no point in doing something ever again. She imagines herself in his arms, both of them encased by flames which cannot touch them. She could accept the fire licking at her insides if it was for him. — Annie-centred, Annie/Eren is implied
1. Fire (1)

_**Notes:** I knew I was going to write something inspired by an Austra song (considering how much I listened to their music while writing Annie/Eren fanfiction), but I didn't know it would turn out like this._

_Inspired by the song Fire, the heat titan bodies seem to have and phoenixes I came up with this weird variation on shifters. The story is Annie-centred but implies Annie/Eren. I hope it makes sense somehow._

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_You said  
I waged a war  
What foe, what for?_

****—** Fire; Austra**

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She dreams of fire. The flames which bore her, the ashes which brought her forth. Destruction has always been her destiny. And in that devastation lies rebirth. It is an eternal circle. The way of her people. There is nothing new without something old dying first. There is no gain without sacrifice.

Her father taught her how to fight. He told her the lore of their people and inaugurated her in their history. He showed her how to utilise her body as a weapon. He explained to her the meaning of the fire burning in her veins and how to use it. He revealed to her the goal of her life, the reason for her existence.

She dreams of fire. The flames burning in her system, the cooling ashes at her core. They are consuming her, eating her up inside and turning her into the nothingness of black coal. It's a dream so intense, a vision she knows will come true. One day she will serve her purpose. She will cause the destruction she was destined to bring. Fire will spread across the land and turn this world. And it will not spare her body. So that everything may be renewed.

She fears that day, dreads it with her very being. She doesn't want to die, she wants to live. She doesn't want her body to turn to ashes and someone else to be born from it. But she doesn't know how to break free from the circle which determines the life and death of her people. Her father only taught her how to survive, how to continue until her role is fulfilled. And he made her promise to return to him.

She dreams of fire and that promise. Her father's words dancing in the flames, the guilt burning in her ashes. She knows she cannot keep that promise. Once the world burns there's nowhere to turn. You cannot survive fire. But it gives her a reason to go on. The false hope that she can somehow make it through and see her father again. Because what is the point of achieving something when you cannot witness the outcome.

Her father knew that. He didn't apologise, but he admitted he had been wrong. In a final moment he betrayed all the principles and believes he had taught her all her life with so much passion. Treat the whole world as your enemy, he asked of her instead. She never knew why, but it doesn't matter to her. She doesn't care about the world. She only cares about herself. And her father.

She dreams of fire. The flames which are alien to her, the ashes which don't resemble her. She doesn't want to burn. She wants no part in the inevitable inferno blazing under the dark sky. She never liked the heat in her body. She never felt like it belonged to her, like that's how she's supposed to be. It always seems to dissolve her.

But she needs to be strong. She cannot budge. She is surrounded by ice. Cold and unbroken. Layered thick and resilient. Lasting forever and ever. She wants to freeze the flames inside of her as well. So they will trouble her no more and she herself will become ice. The form that feels actually natural to her. The form that can get her through anything. She needs it to survive.

.: :.

She dreams of him. The fire in his green eyes, the passion in his voice. She knew he was aflame when she heard him share his beliefs during her early training days. At first she thought him to be ridiculous, then radical. Then something entirely different, impossible for her to grasp. Unlike her he has accepted the fire burning in him with vigour. His flames don't consume him, he feeds on them. And that fascinates her.

For two years she watched him from afar. Then they were face to face, then their limbs were entangled. He wasn't the singeing heat she'd expected. He wasn't as stubborn as she'd thought. He was comforting warmth against her body. And he was willing to learn from her. He let her teach him the only thing she's really good at. The only thing that makes her come to life.

She dreams of him. Their endless fights, his inevitable defeat. She enjoyed how he never held back. She liked turning his strength against him. Though he complained about her harshness he would always come back for another round. He doesn't know how to give up. She hopes he will never learn it. His persistence is something about him she admires and values.

The sight of him became more than she'd bargained for. She noted the little things. The dirt on his clothes, the sweat sticking his dark brown hair to his forehead. A twitch of his lip or the furrowing of his brows. She registered those things and filed them away in her mind for later reference. As if she'd prepared for the time she'd encase herself in crystal, in her refuge from the world. As if a part of her knew. And she comes to believe that her father was right when he told her that there were ways for them to see the future, she just hasn't mastered them.

She dreams of him. The touch of his body seeming to draw her in, her lack of resistance against his impossible appeal on her. His lips became temptation and she had to force herself not to linger on the thought. But in the walls of her mind, shielded off from the outside world, she is free to finally give in to her curiosity.

She imagines the surface of his lips to be chapped, just like her own. The first touch is reluctant, they both don't really know what they're doing. She can feel the hunger growing inside her and she is more than willing to let herself be consumed by it – quite contrary to the fire which is burning in her veins. She wants to feel it, his passion, and she imagines it to seep through his lips into her system. She wants it to burn her up and renew her – like it is her fate to go up in flames and have someone new born from her ashes. But the touch of Eren's lips would spark a different fire and it would not claim her very being.

.: :.

She dreams of her father. His words resonating in her mind, the memories filling her with guilt. I want you to treat the whole world as your enemy, he asked of her. But she knows she has failed. Because for an instance – and then several others – at least a part of her didn't consider the passionate boy as her enemy. She knew they were on different sides and still she let him get close, let him get under her skin.

She wonders if her father knew that she would fail to heed his advice. He has seen glimpses of the future though he never told her what they contained. She wonders if he saw her falter because of the boy with the green eyes – if he saw her fail – and his words were meant as a warning to her. And she apologises to him that she didn't listen and now cannot keep her promise to return.

.: :.

She dreams of his voice. His desperate tone, his demanding questions. Why, why did you do all this? She wonders why, she never believed in any of the reasons. She only pretended that it mattered to her. She played the game like she had chosen her role and not like it was thrust upon her. She went after him to claim him as one of her people and introduce him to the circle of fire which comes with the heat sealing their wounds. She pushed aside her feelings of disappointment and shock upon the realisation that he – like her – was all that what she had envied him for not being.

He keeps repeating the question through the crystal shell, in her head. He reminds her of the bloodshed she caused. He speaks of fighting and battles to win. He says that she brought strife to the walls of mankind – and why was she hiding now and not fighting for her cause to the bitter end. Because he doesn't know that like him she doesn't see the point of her deeds. Like him she doesn't know what she's fighting for, because she doesn't believe in her supposed reasons. They are not hers. They were forced upon her. She doesn't want them to determine her and she's tired of pretending. She has no enemy and no cause. She only has herself.

She dreams of his voice. His shouts as he hammers against her prison, his whispers as tears impede his ability to speak. In her mind, she sees him kneeling before her crystallised form, exhausted from reasoning with her frozen figure and overwhelmed by his emotions. He begs her to break free from the thick layers and make sense of everything for him. But she can't. She never found sense in her father's lessons. She never found sense in this world.

She wants to cry. Like him she wants to wail everything she has done for a day she will never witness. She wants to thrust herself in his arms. She wants to embrace him and be held by him. She wants to melt the ice surrounding her which fails to reach her heart where the warmth of his flames lingers. But she remains frozen out of fear. Fear that he might reject her. Fear that the world outside will not let her reach his arms. She wants to burn this world that keeps her from him, so they can make a brand new start.

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She dreams of fire. The flames which consume the world, the ashes which remain. She sees the cleansed land stretch out in front of her. She can feel him by her side. If she rid this world of everything – all the obstacles in their way – maybe they'd have a chance. A strange sensation spreads inside her, because for the first time she might have use for that fire raging through her system.

She wants to burn for him. It's the only thing that would make sense to her. Because if she can't have him and if she can't have life there is no point in doing something ever again. She imagines herself in his arms, both of them encased by flames which cannot touch them. She could accept the fire licking at her insides if it was for him.

.: :.

But she knows he would never forgive her for that. He wants to preserve the world for mankind. He's fighting for that, he's fighting for his friends. He doesn't crave the destruction in which she sees their chance. And she's through with doing pointless things and walking a path without him.

So she remains. Frozen inside her crystal. Where at least she can hear his voice. And never harm him with her fire.

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	2. Fire (2)

_**Notes:**_ _I wrote this pretty shortly after releasing the first part. But I wanted some distance after finishing it before going over it again and then I forgot and kind of lost touch with EreAni and the SnK fandom. I'm trying to get back to writing for this ship again and I thought this would be a good first step. (Though at first I wasn't sure if I hadn't published it already, but seems not.) _ _I wish I could explain this, but I can't. It's probably weirder than the first part._

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_And we make fire  
And we are fire_

**— Fire; Austra**

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In his dreams he can see her. Not shrouded by the reflecting surface of crystal, but surrounded by mighty flames which reach into the night sky. They dance and cast moving shadows onto her face, her features a stark contrast of light and dark forming changing shapes. She's standing still and just watching him. Calm and unmoved. Her clear blue eyes reflect the bright orange shine and he's mesmerised by the sight.

The fire around her spreads and with it chaos takes over the world. Its flames consume everything and he knows there's no escape. He knows it were her sparks which started the blaze. He knows it was always going to end like this. He knows that it's not just a figment of his mind, but the actual truth. The future as it will play out. And all he can think is that he wants to be there with her.

.: :.

When he visits her these days, her conversation leaves a lot to be desired. What else is to be expected though from a girl who's able to lock herself away behind layers of crystal. She looks like she's peacefully sleeping, like the world doesn't concern her. The world she has riled up so much.

He stands in front of her unchanging shape – sometimes for hours. And he just talks to her. He has no idea if she can hear him, but it doesn't matter to him. He doesn't know what else to do, where to go with all his questions. She holds all the answers and she keeps them from him so adamantly. All she gives him is unbroken silence. Unbroken like the crystal encasing her.

.: :.

_How are you doing? Are you happy? Are you sad? Do you just not care? What's on your mind?_ He's gone over these questions so many times now. He's actually tired of asking for her reasons. Too often now has he asked why she did what she did. The more he repeats it, the more it drives him insane. But he cannot stay away from her.

_Tell me a story._ It's a prompt born from his desperation. He couldn't care less right now for what she would say, as long as he got to hear her voice again. _Tell me your story._ He demands it just for the sake of having tried, not because he actually expects anything to come from it. …_tell me any story._ He's so close to giving up, he isn't even sure why he's still keeping up wit this. _Just help me to make sense of this._ That's all he wants. But never what he gets.

The answer he receives is his breath filling his lungs and then streaming from his parted lips again. The cold dampness of the cell beneath the city and far away from daylight. The flickering of torchlight mocking the vision from his dreams. The flames cast dancing shadows on her and her crystal looks like a mirage of blazing fire. She is in the middle of it. Calm and unmoved. But she doesn't look at him. Her clear blue eyes don't reflect the orange shine, but remain hidden behind her lids. She's not really there with him. She's sleeping, frozen in time.

Her inexorable silence is unnerving him. It's wearing him out, eating away at him, and driving him out of his mind. He's not sure where it's taking him, but it's a desperate place and its darkness threatens to swallow him up. So he screams. Because he's angry, because he's helpless, because he doesn't know what else to do. He screams at the top of his lungs, drawing out the sound which conveys all the feelings no words could ever express. He lashes out and he pounds his fists against her crystal and he rages. Until she can't sleep no more.

.: :.

Blue reflecting orange light. Light unbroken by crystal. Crystal shattered on the ground. He doesn't know how it got there. He doesn't know why his fists are throbbing with pain. He doesn't know where the tears on his cheeks came from. He doesn't know why he's panting. But she's looking at him. Finally she has opened her eyes again. And she's seeing him. She's staring at him. As he's crying, short of breath and just regaining his senses. He's a complete mess right in front of her. But she finally heard him. She finally answered him. Even though her mouth hasn't moved. Even though her lips haven't given away a sound. She finally returned to him.

Speechless and overwhelmed he wraps his arms around her. She is stiff in his grip, but he doesn't mind. He just holds her tight, embraces her with all his might. As if he were afraid that she could leave him again if he ever let her go. She must be able to hear his racing heartbeat from where her head is resting against his chest. But he has nothing to hide from her. Not after days and weeks and months of returning to her. Not after telling her everything he was too scared to tell anyone else.

Her limbs are cold. Shivers begin to run through her body. He can feel her shaking in his arms. At first he thinks it's her muscles trying to compensate for the lack of warmth. But then he hears her uneven breaths and the small sobs escaping her mouth. The tension seeps from her limbs and she collapses into him. She buries her face in his shirt and her nails dig into the cloth covering his back. He leaves her to it. After all he waited so long for the answers. Now that he has a chance of getting them, he can wait a little longer without losing his mind.

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_Why did you call me back?_ Her voice is weak when she asks him this. It's quiet and hoarse and trembles in her throat. _Isn't it obvious?_ That's what he wants to reply. But he realises that to her it's probably not, even if she heard him all this time. He thinks of his reasons. Because he wants an explanation. Because he wants to understand. Because he still cares for her. Because he missed her. Because she haunted him. Because she looked so beautiful when engulfed by the flames in his dreams and he wants to see it come true. It _must_ come true, he knows, though he cannot explain how he knows.

He wants to say all that, but it's like he forgot how to form words. All he can do is hold her in his arms and preserve her there. At least until he's forced to let her go. She has regained her composure. Her breath is going evenly with the steady rise and fall of her chest. Like that she waits, probably for him to reply. And finally he's able to speak again. _You should know._ He exhales the words into the dampness of the underground cell. _I want you to tell me why._

_I'm sorry._ Her voice is a whisper. _I don't think I can give you the answers to your questions._ She lets go of him, pushes her hands against his chest and breaks away from his arms. Her pale skin is ashen. Her breathing is accelerating again. She's staring at her outstretched hands as she stumbles backwards. He spots the horror in her eyes. _No._ The word is a shaky breath from her lips. _This shouldn't be happening, I don't_ want _this to happen._ The exasperation is audible in her voice.

She looks up and their eyes meet. _Why did you have to call me back?_ The accusation is written all over her. _If you hadn't insisted then this wouldn't be happening now._ He stares at her in bewilderment. He has no idea what she's talking about. He wants to ask her, but his tongue is heavy. He wants to approach her, but his limbs are frozen. Instead he watches in awe as an orange glow spreads like fire beneath her skin.

_No._ She gasps. _I don't want to die._ In that moment he understands. It's not something he can put into words easily which is maybe why she chose to seal herself off instead of trying to explain it. It's like an instinct he's always had, but which only now is fully awakened. After all he knew that this was going to happen. His dreams told him.

He begins to move as the first flames start shaping around her. She's telling him to stay away, to get out of this place and save himself. But he's not scared. This is where he wants to be, with her. He steps through the growing ring of fire, unaffected by its heat. She's crying again and and this time he can see the tears. He knows she's scared. She always wanted to live. Yet by hiding herself inside of crystal to prevent this from happening, she's exhausted herself so much that her body is screaming for the renewal through the flames.

He understands this now. After all it's a part of his nature as well. But she probably doesn't know, doesn't understand, doesn't want to. It's what they knew and what they were unaware of that brought them here to this very moment. They are here together, like they were destined to be. He sees it all so clearly now. It's not her fire that will cleanse this world, it's their fire. Because the regenerating flames of one shifter alone are not enough. It needs far more. Love, passion, desire, longing – all burning at their chore.

His arms wrap around her again, trying to take her fear. _It's okay._ His voice is a soothing whisper. _This is how it was always supposed to be._ She clings to him and he can feel her incredible heat seeping through their clothes. _How can you accept this just like that?_ You _of all people._ She sounds calmer, yet not composed. He's surprised himself how easily he can answer her. _It's because I've grown to love you and this is my chance of being with you._

Indeed he hadn't noticed what exactly she means to him until he lost her. She went from being his mentor and friend to his enemy and a traitor. Only when he doubted her and her actions did he realises how much respect he was holding for her. And through all that he was being drawn in by the enigma she posed. In the end, a significant part of him began to wish for all the obstacles between them to disappear so that they could be together.

He's not going to lose her again. And if she burns, so does he, and with them this whole world which is rotten to the core. He saw it for what it really is and he's willing to sacrifice it for a new beginning. It could only be his wishful thinking, still he can't help but think that she feels the same. And when he asks her, she admits to it. _But I thought you would hate me for it._ It's an objection she only mumbles. A worry he can easily take off her mind.

For the first time, he takes her face into his hands and leans in to kiss her. He's never dared to think much about how her lips would feel on his, so there's no expectation to be disappointed. The thin skin on her mouth is a little dry and chapped. She's hesitating, but then meets him with equally growing desire. He can feel her fire seeping into him, torching him, and setting him alight.

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